


Lumière Over Me

by LetsWasteTime



Category: Little Mix (Band), One Direction (Band), Union J (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, Fluff, I can't believe I'm writing so much fluff I'm such a hypocrite, M/M, Summer Camp, also Louis and Harry with kids, and bad jokes, and talk about happiness, the Ziam is very very minor almost non-existant I basically just wanted to be a funny tease
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-29
Updated: 2014-07-29
Packaged: 2018-02-10 23:26:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2044212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LetsWasteTime/pseuds/LetsWasteTime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summer Camp AU. Harry jumps in as a subsitute counsellor. He owes Niall is the thing. What wasn't part of the deal is Louis Tomlinson, who just so happens to be one of the counsellors at the summer camp. And who also just so happens to be Harry's sixth form crush. Louis is several kinds of enthralling and Harry only one kind of screwed.</p><p>Basically a whole load of fluff inspired by an early morning text message from T.</p><p>[Title is from Ed Sheeran's <em>Tenerife Sea</em>, because I can.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lumière Over Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [green_feelings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/green_feelings/gifts).



> Happy Birthday, T!
> 
> I can't believe this thing exist but here we are a week after you sent me that inspiring text message. I'm sorry the thing kept you up all night, but it brought you this story here so wheee! I guess.
> 
> It's just a stupid amount of fluff and a pile of things that remind me of you.
> 
>  _Jesus_ , I can't believe I got to know and meet you, you're an incredible human being and one of the main reasons I enjoy fandom so much. Thanks for letting me whine into your inbox and for indulging me with my writing.
> 
> Hope you like it <3<3
> 
> Big thanks also to [Tina](http://coldandemptybedroom.tumblr.com/) who beta-ed this mess on such short notice. You're a gem!
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** This is a work of fiction. I do not own One Direction, Little Mix or Union J nor anyone associated with them.  
>  Appreciate and respect the 4th wall.

Harry is staring at Niall’s dyed head of hair who’s leading him up the stairs. He still can’t quite believe he’s agreed to do this after all. Johnny owed him big time, he decides. Come to think of it though, he hasn’t even seen the kids, and it might not be as bad as he suspected when he heard the screams coming out of the windows from down below.

“Did you get here all right, mate? Trains are a bit of a bugger around Portsmouth,” Niall throws over his shoulder, shooting a quick, enquiring glance at Harry.

“Yeah, wasn’t too bad, actually,” Harry replies, the last words a slow mumble since he’s getting distracted again from the screaming. How many children are there?

The narrow stairway they’re climbing up is leading them to a vast open space that seems to serve both as a playroom as well as a dining room. Currently, there are about five or six kids playing on the ground. Judging from the tumultuous state of the room, they are trying to build what seems like a very wobbly construction of a Kapla tower. Some of the kids are standing on chairs to reach up to the top of the tower, while others are handing them small piles of the wooden planks.

Niall only spares the kids a brief glance, seemingly unfazed by the imminent danger of the tower collapsing on them, and then turns to face Harry.

“So this, as you might have guessed, is the dining room,” Niall tells him. “I’ll show you your room in a sec, just want you to meet George since he’s the only one who’s still down here.”

Niall leads him out of the dining room again, towards a different door. Once inside, Harry’s steps echo off the tiles of the big kitchen. The only person in the room is a guy that has his back turned to Niall and Harry and is currently engrossed in bellowing out the final notes to Bulletproof. “See this here,” Niall starts his voice raised slightly to be heard over the guy’s singing. “’S the heart of the house. And this,” he claps his hand on the other guy’s shoulder which makes him turn around. “This is George. He’s the cook, so you better not get on his bad side, wouldn’t want to starve, would you?” George only chuckles at Niall’s words while he’s trying to free his hands from his dishwashing gloves.

“Harry here is Josh’s replacement,” Niall explains and George’s eyes light up with realisation, seemingly satisfied with the spare explanation.

“We’re really grateful for your help, you know,” George tells Harry earnestly.

“It’s a pleasure,” Harry replies. Which it is, mostly. While he’s not overly fond at the thought of Johnny enjoying the last few days at Leeds while Harry is stuck with a bunch of pre-teens, he does enjoy looking after kids. And maybe kids aren’t that bad when they’re not directly related to you. After all, he is still recovering from that one instance with his cousins who kept him up all night to make him suffer through a make over that entailed a pack of black hair dye and way too much eye liner. Whatever everyone else might say, black was not his colour.

Throwing a quick wave over his shoulder, Niall’s ushering Harry out of the kitchen again. Off to meet the others, probably. The thought makes his stomach turn and his head uneasy. When Niall told him about the other counsellors at the camp, he only off-handedly mentioned Louis, obviously oblivious to their - or rather Harry’s - past history with Louis. No one knows, of course. No one knows about Harry’s embarrassing and deeply felt crush on Louis during sixth form that made Harry realise he was gay.

It has been three years, though. Three years since he’s seen Louis last, and he hopes that Louis won’t remember him. Won’t remember their last encounter in which Harry experienced a struck of unasked-for bravery coupled with liquid courage and hit on Louis. Half-way through, though his courage left him and so Harry legged it, unable to face the amusement that was undoubtedly written over Louis’ face.

No. He isn't really prepared to meet Louis.

 

xxxxxxx

 

So the other counsellors, are… not what Harry expected. One, they aren’t the fifty-something women that are too young to be considered kind grannies and too old to be able to let the kids have a good time. They’re young – Harry’s age, he’d say. Sure, he knew about Niall and Louis, and they’re both his age - but he thought they are exceptions to the rule. As is painstakingly obvious now, he was wrong. 

“Everyone, meet Harry here,” Niall introduces him to the group of twenty-something’s that is lazily lounging on a beat-up sofa, some of them munching on sweets and crisps. Raising his hand for a small wave, Harry eyes them curiously. He is still processing his utter surprise at the group he was faced with when Niall begins an introductory round. He searches the small group for Louis and spots him next to a dark haired boy, who’s watching Louis’ hands flit over a Rubik’s cube. He’s hunched over so that his face is concealed from Harry’s sight, his tousled hair blocking everything else. Harry both wants Louis to look at him and for the ground to swallow him in whole. It’s too late now, though, he’s here, he’s promised Johnny he’d do it, and he can’t really say no to Niall, in the first place. At Niall’s introduction, Louis doesn’t raise his head. So he’s still not looking at Harry. Begrudgingly, Harry tears his gaze away from what little he can see of Louis’ face.

Harry’s gaze scams the group again and he There are two girls, one of them sporting a purple shock of hair that prompts Harry to do a double take. The other girl must have picked up the slight shock that showed in Harry’s features, her face breaking into an amused smile. Among the two girls and Louis, two other guys add to the team. Niall introduces them as Zayn and Liam, the girls as Perrie - the one with the purple hair - and Jesy, the giggly friend.

“Louis, mate, don’t be rude,” Niall scoffs at Louis, who still hasn’t looked up from the cube. At Niall’s words Harry’s torn out of his thoughts, just in time to meet the other boy’s eyes.

 _Jesus_. Harry isn’t easily mesmerized by the beauty some people seem to find in a person’s eyes but the one’s he was looking into right now are definitely something else. Glacier-blue and sparkling, they immediately lose the mischief that seemed to have bubbled up before Louis looked up. Even though Harry is convinced he knew that Louis was beautiful the last few years seem to have done him spectacularly well. His cheekbones are more defined, probably due to the light scruff that is framing his face, and his jawline looks positively filthy from where Harry’s standing. Whatever Harry expected - and he isn’t sure what it was because it’s really hard to think right now - he wasn’t prepared for an even prettier version of Louis. Harry wants to wreck him, and also scatter his lovely face with butterfly kisses, but preferably both and in varying orders. Jesus, he needs to get a grip. His eyes still fixed on Harry’s, Louis is fumbling with the colourful cube in his hand, a hint of insecurity in his features. But there is no sign of recognition in Louis demeanour, nothing that would lead on that the two of them have met before. Exhaling on a more relieved breath, Harry hopes that Louis isn’t playing at anything.

The silence only drags on for another second or two before Harry feels like he’s going to implode if he continues staring into those devastatingly beautiful eyes. He clears his throat nervously and croaks a weak “Hi.”

Louis seems to snap out of his thoughts at Harry’s awkward greeting and visibly straightens himself to meet Harry’s gaze again. “Hi mate, nice of you to jump in on such short notice,” Louis responds, and the others supply concurring nods and Liam utters a quiet “Yeah, really kind of you.” Oh, so yeah, there are other people with them, quite a lot actually and Harry shouldn’t leave too bad of a first (or second) impression. They’re entrusting him with a bunch of kids, after all.

“Have a seat, love,” Perrie prompts and pats the small patch on the sofa that isn’t occupied by anyone’s limbs. “Help yourself, there are some leftover sweets from the game today - or don’t they’re not actually that good.”

“Should’ve gotten the fruity ones,” Niall suggests and plops onto the beanbag that is next to the sofa.

“Next time you do the shopping Pez and Niall,” Liam grumbles from where he’s perched next to Louis, cuddled into Zayn’s side. 

“So, No sweets or Yes sweets?” Harry inquires then, torn between the temptation of a sugar-induced high and the dread of an awful aftertaste.

“Just take one, sweets are sweets,” Louis throws into the round, without averting his eyes from his hands that are flitting over the Rubik’s cube again. Apparently he’s losing his patience as he seems to get more and more annoyed and it isn’t until long that he haphazardly throws away the cube and the little remnants of patience he still has left. Louis finally meets Harry’s eyes again, unimpressed nonchalance dripping from his voice and features. “Wouldn’t bother with those choosey buggers.”

Harry’s confronted with Louis cheeky smile and before he can reply anything, Louis winks at him. Luckily, Harry manages to turn the giggle – for fuck’s sake he doesn’t giggle – into an amused huff before anyone notices the embarrassing slip. No one can actually blame him for losing his chill, though. Not when Louis’ practically radiating mischievous mirth and stays distractingly charming and disarmingly lovely all the same.

From what Harry is taking from the happy and lively group, the next few days look very promising. And if he gets to spend some extra time with Louis during their chores or courses, he isn’t going to say no to that either.

 

xxxxxxx

 

Later in the day, after a round of workshops that Harry mastered with limited success, they’re in the common’s room, some of the kids playing with the Kapla woods again. The tower from earlier had already been teared down in some raucous hide-and-seek that seems to have gotten out of hand. The tears did flow short and heavily, though, but luckily only a few kids were around to see their hard work go to waste.

All counselors, except for Jesy who is helping out George in the kitchen, are huddled around one of the small dining tables. Liam, Niall, Louis and Harry are in the midst of a very intense game of Crazy Eights while Perrie and Zayn are handing out more or less welcome advice. Technically, the board games were taken out for the kids to play with and the team to jump in when a player was missing. Somehow, though, board games weren’t up to date with the kids interests anymore and so the lot of supervisors ended up being the last and only ones to play.

After a very suspicious win on Louis’ part that is only met with a satisfied smirk and a cheeky wink - God, will Harry ever recover - Liam’s mixing the cards again. Waiting for the cards to be handed out, Niall is the first to speak up again.

“What have you been up to lately, Haz?” he asks and his nonchalant gesture don’t quite manage to conceal all the caution that is tinting his voice.

“Well, you know, not much…” Harry starts, unsure what exactly he wants the others to know. He hasn’t really talked to anyone about his parents lately, except for Gemma maybe. Before he can come up with an answer that clearly signals that his parents divorce isn’t really something he wants to discuss with a bunch of people he’s only just met he’s saved by Louis chipping in.

“Niall told us you just finished your first year of Law...” Louis starts, trailing off, leaving it more as an opener rather than a question. Harry is so, so grateful for that save. Something in Louis’ reassuring smile tells him that Louis might know where Harry’s hesitance is coming from.

“Yeah, I- erm, I’m studying Law at King’s College…” he explains. Liam jumps in at that, excitement colouring his tone.

“I’m at King’s too! Not for Law though, too much formal talk for me…” he tells them quickly. “No offence - not that Law isn’t any good, just, not for me.” He hastily adds, probably scared to have insulted Harry.

“It’s alright mate, none taken. What do you do then?” he asks, which launches an annoyed huff from Louis.

“Now you’ve started it, H, you gotta listen to that whole monologue he’s memorised for this,” Louis complains and gets up from his seat. “Not gonna listen to that. I’ll check on the kids downstairs, anyone care to join?”

Zayn gets up to follow Louis downstairs before any of them gets a chance to react. Harry isn’t going to leave the group now though, not after he just started off with Liam. He isn’t one to drop everything and run at the first tempting opportunity, not even if it involves Louis. Hopefully, he’ll have enough opportunities to spend some more time with Louis. Granted the other boy wants to spend time with him as well.

He watches Louis walk away and if his gaze lingers on Louis’ bum a second or two longer, no one has to know. Apparently, though, Niall does know, since he asks Harry with an amused tone: “Appreciating the view, H?”

Harry feels a blush creep up his cheeks and the heat spreading over his face and decides to ignore Niall’s question. Luckily, Niall doesn’t ask again, instead opting to stay on the topic of Louis if not necessarily for the delight Harry draws from the boy’s rear-view.

“Did Louis and you get along all right this morning?” he wants to know, the knowing grin from earlier still tucked into the corners of his mouth.

“Yeah, he’s a right laugh, and really good with kids, which…” Harry hesitates, trying to offer some kind of explanation without insulting Louis with his own expectations.

“Which you didn’t really expect, I guess?” Niall tries and apparently Harry wasn’t alone in his misjudgement of Louis’ character. “He is really great with kids, I was surprised to see that as well. With, you know, his kind of character and the way he doesn’t seem to take things too seriously. I’m glad the two of you get along.”

They do indeed. While Harry was still a bit scared when they were preparing the workshop after lunch, Louis’ light-hearted remarks and silly banter helped him relax and freak out a bit less. Soon Harry discovered that he is much the same with the kids as he is with the team, if only the innuendos are reduced to a drastic minimum and some of the cheekiness is replaced with a hint of natural authority Harry can only dream of. Fact is, the kids adore Louis, respect him as a leader and as a person they can trust. That much was clear from the way they talked and played with him this afternoon. They had been alright with Harry, thank god, and have taken him up quite quickly after his brief introduction at lunch, but he credited a lot of that to Louis letting him join in his antics and signalling to the kids that Louis respected Harry as an equal.

“I’m glad we get along, too,” Harry supplies, still decidedly ignoring Niall’s pointed looks. “He’s something else.”

 

xxxxxxx

 

It’s the second night after Harry’s arrival and Louis and him are sat on the floor in the hallway, listening for any noise of commotion in one of the boys’ rooms. It’s past midnight already, nearing 1am and faint shreds of whispering can be heard from the room furthest from where they’re perched next to each other. Steaming cups of tea in both sets of hands, they settled down for what will hopefully be a short chaperone shift.

The first few minutes have been spent in comfortable silence, a refreshing change to the blaring noise that normally prevails during dinner and shortly before bedtime. When the whispers seem to have died down in all of the rooms, it’s Louis who speaks up first.

“Normally, if I stay up this late, I’d bring out the booze and drink a beer or two,” Louis whispers, his hands feeding off the warmth of the mug in his hands. “But y’know…” He makes a non-committing gesture as if he doesn’t see the need for any elaboration.

Harry only frowns with incomprehension. Does Louis think he doesn’t drink or isn’t there any alcohol? He felt unease creep over his chest, making his rib cage feel too tight. Would Louis think Harry was some kind of bore that bans all drugs and alcohol and judges people who won’t?

But Harry’s saved from digging a deeper hole in his misery when Louis continues: “It’s most likely not a good idea and definitely against our rules, so no alcohol - or drugs, for that.” Carding a hand through his hair, he straightens his posture again from where he was slumped against the wall. “Not that… not that I’d think you’re the kind of guy who does drugs,” Louis adds nervously, when Harry delays his answer.

“What kind of guy do you take me for, then?” Harry asks, a hint of disbelief at his own forwardness colouring his voice.

“I guess, I haven’t really decided on that yet,” Louis retorts. A mischievous smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth again and. Oh. There can definitely be two people playing this game.

“Well, Tommo,” Harry makes sure he puts extra emphasis on the second word, fully aware that Louis knows how ridiculous he finds the nickname. He’s teasing, after all. “I wouldn’t have taken you for one that is especially concerned with rules of any sorts…”

Louis only lifts his brows in response but remains silent otherwise and so Harry continues, on slightly more serious note. “But this time I’m glad you’re going against my expectations.”

If you were to ask him right now, Harry wouldn’t be able to tell where his cheek was coming from and considers to backtrack when Louis’ smile takes a second or two longer to brighten up his features. The smile isn’t one of his blinding, centrifugal ones but a much more private and settling one that has Harry’s stomach twisting excitedly and his fingers itching.

“Nothing wrong with bending the rules while staying in the realm of reason and responsibility, is there?” Louis asks, and once again, Harry’s stricken by Louis volubility and wit.

“No, I guess there isn’t,”  Harry supplies eloquently. “You’re really good with them. The kids, I mean.”

“ _You_ are good with them,” he offers Harry a sceptic frown. “I just yelled at a bunch of them five minutes ago, Harold. How’s that fit behaviour in any kind?”

“You lost your patience, Lou,” Harry amends, Louis was being ridiculous. “That’s not surprising given that we spend 24/7 with them, and it’s only human. I’ve seen you during the course today, and yesterday too.” Harry is reminded of how gentle Louis was with Paula, this afternoon, encouraging her when she lost her patience with her drawing. “You really know how to, like, nudge them in the right direction when they’re lost…”

“I guess I was trained well enough at home, I’ve got six younger siblings,” Louis smiles when Harry gives him an incredulous look.

“Six?” he asks confusedly. “I thought you only had four?” As soon as the words are out, he wants to kick himself, because he’s not supposed to know these kinds of things if he wants to keep pretending that he’s never met Louis before. And maybe also hide how huge of a crush he had on Louis.

Louis shoots him a confused look. “How do you…” he starts, but Harry interrupts him quickly, eager to lead Louis away from any hasty conclusion.

“Niall probably told me.” He tries to let his voice remain unaffected, keen on putting too much emphasis on this piece of information. Luckily, Louis decides not to inquire any further.

“Yeah, I’ve got six siblings, five sisters and a brother, all younger than me… as you might know,” he explains. “So, I helped out my mum quite a bit.” He lets his gaze trail down the dark hallway, which offers Harry an unprompted opportunity to admire his sinful jawline. Louis’ face is illuminated by the trickle of light that is falling through the half opened door from the dining room. In this light, Louis’ profile is incredibly defined and Harry wants to trace the sharp edges and soft skin with his fingers and tongue, wants to bite at Louis strained neck and draw a moan from the other boy.

The scatters of conversation from the dining room where the rest of their team is punches Harry back into the now. Right, they are having an actual conversation, and it’s his turn to talk so might as well get a move on before he makes an even bigger fool of himself.

“They sound like a handful,” he says, offering Louis a tentative smile.

“Yeah, they are. I work part-time at a local youth centre too, and that’s more than a handful, so once I started there, things at home were put into perspective, I guess.” He sounds humble, non-bragging about it, like he is merely stating a simple fact. Harry admires him nevertheless. It might also explain why the kids more readily react to Louis’ guidance than the suggestions from some of the other supervisors. It seems like they already established a clear-cut and harmonious hierarchy, a well balanced relationship that was based on mutual respect. It’s clear to Harry now where it’s coming from, even though he can’t deny Louis’ air of natural authority.

“How did you get into this then?” Louis continues.

“Well, it’s kind of a long story, but basically my mate Johnny works as a youth counsellor and he lets me tag along once in a while. That’s how I met Niall and we got on really well and that’s basically how I got here…” he closes a bit weakly.

“So you’re doing Law at King’s and work at a youth centre. Interesting combination…” Louis offers.

“I actually started out with business but had to realise it wasn’t for me, too much analytical theory and playing with numbers. And I sort of lost my aim at some point, didn’t really see where it would take me, like, how it would support me in supporting others, I guess,” he explains, reflecting on the first few months in London, how lost he had felt, before he got his shit together.

Louis raises his brows and his tone is tinged with surprise when he admits: “Didn’t take you for the Greater Good kind of person…” And Louis doesn’t seem to get his point.

Frowning, he answers: “I wouldn’t call it that, I’m not selfless, just sharing with the world whatever I feel like others might benefit from, too.”

“Sounds healthy,” Louis quips. “But gets dangerous when you lose yourself…” he adds, absorbed in his own thoughts. Harry feels his face heat up, confused at the morbid tone in Louis’ voice. It sounds like Louis was speaking from experience.

“Have you ever?” he asks, unable to control his curiosity.

“Lost myself?” Harry only nods, fears that any more words from him might break the intimate turn their conversation has taken. So Louis continues.

“I thought I had… at one point, it took the lot over there to pull me out of my own misery…” he gestures over to the dining room and Harry feels a sting of envy at the thought of the closeness Louis shares with the rest of their team.

“What happened?” In for a penny, in for a pound. He could only hope he wasn’t pushing too much.

“It’s not something I usually, like, open up with at dinner parties, so you kind of have to understand that it’s- It’s not something. Let’s just say that I made my own happiness depend on someone else’s and they turned out to be less than interested in my well-being. Took quite a long time and several fights with Ni and Zayn for me to realise.” His voice sounds strained and the way he struggled for words lets Harry only assume how much he put Louis out of his depth. He can’t imagine what kind of person would completely ignore the feelings of the one they’re with. Reflecting on Louis’ words, the concept seems so foreign to him that he decides to leave it. After all, he’s intruded Louis’ privacy enough already given the fact that they only met yesterday. At least as far as Louis knows.

“I’ve learned to deal with it differently, after that,” Louis continues, when Harry remains silent. “Happiness isn’t a dependant variable in an equation, it’s a choice.”

“A choice?”

“Yeah,” Louis answers softly. “A choice about what you decide to appreciate and where you lay your attention…”

“I’ve never really thought about it that way,” Harry explains or tries to. It’s kind of unbelievable. This boy, man, Louis who he’s literally just met talks to him about fundamental question like that of happiness and makes him want to reconsider how he watches the world. “I guess, I’m always afraid that the happiness won’t last, in a way. That it’s fleeting.”

“But that’s the beauty of it, don’t you think?” Louis queries, a fascinating glint in his captivating eyes. “That it doesn’t last.”

“It makes you appreciate it more,” Harry concludes, and he thinks he understands it better now. Understands where Louis is coming from, even though the details are missing.

Another few moments pass in silence, and Harry’s tea has gone cold. He doesn’t care, though because it was nice when the mug was still warming his hands. The moment of comfort is gone and Harry takes the cold of the mug as a sign to call it a night. He gets up and motions for Louis to do the same. He regrets to have broken the mood, but he needs his sleep and tomorrow’s another day.

“I guess the kids are all asleep now. I should head to bed…” he tells Louis and doesn’t miss the disappointment that flashes over the boy’s face. A soothing kind of warmth is spreading in Harry’s chest and he lets himself hope.

Louis’ lips are wet from his last sip of tea, his eyes are getting bleary from the weight of the past day and Harry thinks he looks positively kissable. Crowding closer to Louis, he takes the other boy’s mug and sets them both on the floor. When he straightens up again, confusion is distorting Louis’ features but Harry still thinks he’s beautiful.

He closes the gap between them and goes to kiss Louis. A staggering three seconds pass that Harry spends hoping that Louis won’t push him away. And then Louis is kissing him back, tentatively, slowly, seemingly unsure of what to make of it. It’s a sweet and lingering kiss, a delicate touch of lips without any urge behind it and it’s enough for Harry to revel in.

The kiss doesn’t last long and when they break apart, neither of them is out of breath, even though Harry’s head feels light and dizzy. He offers Louis a last, timid smile, that he thinks he sees the other boy return before telling him goodnight and beelining for his room.

It’s not until he’s laying in his bed, the sheets pulled up to his neck that he wants to hit himself repeatedly. What had he been thinking? Not much obviously, since he just kissed one of his work colleagues - fair enough, the working environment wasn’t the most professional one - but this smelled of disaster. He decides to panic in the morning, though, and for the moment focuses on not letting himself ponder too much over the fact that Louis was kissing him back just as willingly.

 

xxxxxxx

 

They don’t kiss again after that. Moreover, the kiss doesn’t get mentioned by either of them. They spend the next few days coaching the kids together, which is great fun, but Louis doesn’t let on that anything out of the ordinary happened the other day. Harry is totally fine with it, except for how he isn’t. For about half a day, he thought he was able to convince himself that he doesn’t mind if Louis and him only end up as friends. But as the days pass, he catches himself more and more thinking about what it would feel like if they got to kiss again. For real this time, though. And even if Louis kissed back, Harry doesn’t want to get his hopes up. After all, it could’ve been a spur of the moment reaction, kissing for the sake of it, and not because he wanted to, not because he he was kissing Harry.

He thinks about appreciating the small things, the transient things that shimmer bright for seconds, or minutes and then disappear again.

The triumphant smile on a kid’s face when she’s managed to figure out the right combination of leaves and bugs. The screeching laughter that can be heard from along the entire beach, when they take the kids to the shore and let them collect shells, algae and dead crabs. And the banter between Liam and Zayn that has Harry wondering to what exactly their friendship extends. The hugs Niall shares with anyone within reach and the content faces of those who get hugged. The cry Perrie lets out when Joffrey brings her a dead jellyfish he found close to the water.

And Louis. The way his smile turns smaller, more patient  when he’s helping out one of the younger ones. The way his eyes scrunch up and his small dimples show when a smile takes over his face. The way Harry’s stomach gives an excited tug when he hears Louis’ laughter. The colour of the brandished sea that gives Louis’ eyes a run for the money, but Harry thinks he’s still endlessly biased.

They don’t kiss again and Harry is in stitches. He doesn’t want to force Louis to do anything he doesn’t want to. But if he gets the chance to kiss him again, properly this time, he isn’t going to let it pass either.

 

xxxxxxx

 

It’s somewhere around 2am when Harry stumbles out of his room he shares with Niall and Liam and goes to the bathroom for a much needed wee. Just as he steps out of the bathroom again, he bumps into a dishevelled looking Louis and a nervous-looking Perrie. And just, _what_? It’s two am, why the hell would the two of them be ghosting around the house. Except for-

“Harry, good, you can join Louis with this, I’ve got other troubles to deal with,” she starts, obviously ignoring that Harry is only half-awake and has no clue what’s going on. Harry doesn’t move and he must look as confused as he feels because Perrie elaborates on what she’s going on about. “Three of the boys, Jake, Brian and Charlie, they sneaked out and I can’t find them anywhere. Chiara came to me a few minutes ago with a serious case of homesickness and she said she saw them leave their rooms.”

And just why. Why was he even dealing with this. It was too late- or rather too early for Harry to be concerned with a bunch of pre-teens who think they can just head off in the middle of the night. But, shit, yeah, three of their boys are missing, have run off to chase some adventures of their own. It’s bloody two in the morning and they could be anywhere. Still sleep-drunk, Harry desperately hopes that they weren’t so stupid as to run far. With their house surrounded by woods on three sides, it would be almost impossible to find them outside in the dark.

But Louis is up as well, and he’s going to join him, so it’s only half as bad. Louis is experienced in these kind of things, probably also knows what to do and where to look for the kids. Besides, Louis straight-out-of-bed-look is endearing and he looks beautiful still, even if his hair is horribly dishevelled and his cheek is still smudged from his pillow. Not the point right now, though.

“Okay, so I’ll leave you guys to it,” Perrie speaks between the two and heads for the team’s room. “Gotta look after Chiara.”

So now Louis and Harry are left alone again. And Harry has to deal with his own sleepiness coupled with the lovely sight of a sleepy Louis Tomlinson. Louis offers him a weak grin through bleary eyes.

“She caught me in the kitchen when I was having a midnight snack… Should teach me a lesson… Next time she can go wake up someone else,” Louis tells him and ends with a disgruntled huff.

But yes, missing kids. That’s where their concerns lie right now. “So where will they most likely be?” Harry tries to offer a constructive start to their search.

“Perrie said she’s already looked for them upstairs and on this floor, so we should cover the rest… _God_ , I really want to go back to bed and just let these buggers be for the rest of the night. I don’t like responsibility right now.” And Harry can very much sympathise with him. But if he gets to search the house with Louis and admire him in his boxers and the sheer white t-shirt he’s wearing he’s also not complaining too much. The boxers are hugging Louis’ bum just the right way and the sheer tshirt doesn’t leave a lot to imagination either. So, what were his priorities again? Seriously, he wants a new brain. Or at least one that is less sleepy or susceptible to Louis Tomlinson.

“Let’s check in the basement,” Louis suggests and Harry is grateful for the change of direction of his thoughts. He nods and gestures for Louis to lead the way and together they traipse down the narrow stairs to the basement.

Both the ping-pong room and the cloak room are empty, the three boys nowhere to be seen. There’s a faint light shimmering through one of the windows, though, and Harry thinks that that might lead them to the boys. He tells Louis as much and they climb up the stairs again and step out into the mild summer air.

The night’s warm, and they’re far off enough to see more than just the brightest stars when looking up at the night’s sky. The faint light Harry spotted earlier is coming from a cell phone torch, illuminating the three figures of what hast to be their lost boys. Hunched on the ground a few feet from the terrace, they seem to be playing cards.

“Thank God,” Harry huffs, just when Louis hisses a low “What the fuck.” He takes a few long strides towards the boys, who startle when they hear Louis approach. They don’t even try any antics, clever enough to just stay where their sat on the ground.

Once Harry has caught up with Louis, he hears the boy’s voice lowly scalding the boys. “What the fuck, honestly, boys. What the hell were you thinking, sneaking out in the middle of the goddamn night? You scared the shit out of us.” Louis isn’t even trying to reign in his voice, never mind holding in the swear words. He’s clearly angry at the boys, and Harry understands completely - he nearly pissed his pants at the thought of having lost the boys - but he also sees the three young boys caving under Louis scolding and Harry can’t help but feel a bit pity for them. Considering that they didn’t go far, they probably didn’t mean any harm, an innocent spurt of boyish mischief.

Looking at their individual faces, Harry sees that the boys are positively browbeaten, their heads ducked to appear as small as humanly possible. Louis is still ranting and Harry thinks the boys have had enough trouble as it it. Tentatively, he lays a hand on Louis shoulder to get him to calm down and the other boy jumps slightly at the sudden touch. Louis stops talking though, and instead turns his head to look at Harry, question in his eyes.

“Don’t you think they’ve had enough of a hard time with us scaring them and your little rant already?” Harry asks him lowly and almost fears that Louis will round upon him too, when his smile doesn’t come as easily. Harry’s hand is still on Louis’ shoulder and he feels him exhaling a long breath, before Louis raises his voice again. This time though, it’s only to a low mumble.

“Alright, yeah, get up boys, get yourselves to bed, I think you know the way.” While his words are harsh, his tone isn’t and the boys seem to have lost their scared demeanours. They get up silently and address Louis directly when apologising simply and directly to both Harry and Louis before they turn towards the house, the small light of the cell phone dancing over the ground.

Making sure they go straight to their respective rooms, Harry follows the light of the torch that is now visible through the windows on the upper floor. Next to him, he registers Louis doing the same and turns to him when the light has disappeared into one of the rooms. It’s dark around them now, the only source of light the scatters that come through the windows of the dining room on the far end of the house. In the dim light, Harry can barely see Louis’ face, much less make out the colour of his eyes. It’s calming, of some sorts, at least he doesn’t have to put up with the turmoil of feelings whenever he gets lost in them.

They’re standing only a few feet apart, a polite distance for two people that have only met a few days prior. But Harry doesn’t want polite, doesn’t want to succumb to behavioral etiquette when it comes to Louis because he wants to be close to him. Always. Always touching him, tracing the lines of his collarbones, the dip in his waist, the inseam of his thighs, even if he’s never touched Louis in that manner before. Except for the kiss maybe. Although, only their lips have touched then, nothing else, but it was enough, definitely enough for Harry. Because even though it was quick and hesitant and over way too soon, it had him delirious for another half an hour and restless for the last 24 hours.

“Do you want to stay out a bit, sit down for a while?” Louis asks him, saving Harry from his own thoughts.

“Sure, yeah, couldn’t really sleep anyway,” Harry replies and doesn’t react when his stomach does a backflip.

They sit down next to each other, the wall of the house supporting their backs, the cold of the concrete ground slowly seeping through Harry’s jeans. He looks up at the stars and once again admires how fuller and brighter the sky is out here compared to what you get on a clear night in London. He notices Louis mirroring his line of vision and tries to find something to say.

“So many of them… I feel like I want to get lost in them…” he tries but Louis remains silent. “You can’t fix on a single one though, you have to look at the entirety of it, if you fix on one for too long, you lose it.” Louis still hasn’t said anything and so Harry turns his head to look at him. They aren’t touching anywhere and Harry desperately wants to reach out, just to make sure Louis is still there with him. His mind wanders back to the time he first laid eyes on Louis, the _actual first time_ and he can’t believe they’ve ended up like that. Bantering with each other, the prospect of becoming friends tinting their interactions, the sweet scent of the possibility for something more lingering in their fleeting touches. He hasn’t thought about their first encounter much during his time here, but it’s nagging at his mind again right now.

“Did you know that we’ve met before? I mean before Niall introduced us on Saturday,” Harry asks him curiously. What is he going to do if Louis doesn’t remember?

“We did?” Louis shoots back incredulously. Disappointment sits low in Harry’s stomach.

“Yeah, I was at a few of his parties, we went to school together, but didn’t hang out as much,” Harry explains, the images of Niall’s house parties flashing before his eyes. The lawn littered with bottles and cups, the living room crammed to the rafters with people Harry barely knew, music blasting from several loudspeakers. The blurry silhouettes of some of his classmates dancing closely together, the scent of alcohol and sweat in the air, a lovely boy in a striped tshirt pouring himself a drink in the kitchen. The first time Harry saw Louis.

Harry and Niall weren’t as close as they are now, even though they saw each other more often. Niall used to hang with the older crowd, the crowd Louis belonged to.

“Ah, yeah, Ni has always been fond of a good party,” Louis reminisces, and he, too, looks like he remembers the bashes vividly. “So you use to go there, like, often? I’m sorry but I don’t really remember meeting you.” He sounds genuinely sorry, and Harry decides he won’t regret what lies in the past.

“We actually only spoke once or twice,” he grins at the embarrassing memory, remembering how nervous he was when he actually got to properly talk to Louis. The Tommo, football captain of their school’s team at the time, and the prettiest boy Harry had ever seen. “I- _God_ , this is really embarrassing, but- I used to have a crush on you back in sixth form.” He might as well spill all of it “And there was this one time where I was so obviously hitting on you and drastically failing I wanted to vanish from this earth,” he admits, sheepishly smiling back at Louis.

Something like realisation grazes over Louis’ face and his eyes light up. “Niall’s New Year’s bash, that one year he filled the whole tub with beer bottles?” he giggled. And what? So he _did_ remember, what the _actual_ fuck? “You were really cute, you know, but your hair was a lot curlier and you were a lot shorter…and” He directs a pointed stare at Harry’s crotch. ”Your jeans less tight,” he continues, giggling again at the recurring memories.

“Don’t take the piss,” Harry shoots back. He isn’t gonna let Louis think he’s still such a hopeless fool.

“You said used to,” Louis inquires after he’s stopped his giggles. “So the crush is a thing from the past?” Wow, so Louis isn’t one for beating around the bush. And just how is Harry going to explain that one? This feels different, _is_ different than a silly crush.

“Well,” he starts, pondering his options. How could he get out of this smoothly? “For one, I’m not as clumsy anymore, and definitely less desperate. But you’re also a lot prettier and kind of distractingly hot.” He hears Louis’ breath hitch at his last few words and where the fuck did Harry get so straightforward?

Louis raises his hand and reaches out, brings it close to Harry’s face but doesn’t touch him. His eyes flicker from Harry’s eyes to his lips and Harry feels the echo of their kiss ghost over his own lips. Louis seems to fight with himself, unsure whether he’s allowed to touch and in the end lightly traces his finger along Harry’s jaw line. Harry feels Louis’ thumb graze over his lower lip and doesn’t dare move. A shiver runs along his spine and makes his fingers shake. Louis still hasn’t said anything, his movements speaking a language of their own.

“You know,” Louis shifts closer to Harry so that their sides are pressed together and tiny wisps of electricity seem to be jumping over Harry’s skin. Louis hesitates and Harry notices the change in his voice. The edges have blurred together and Louis’ voice sounds strained. “I quite liked it - I really liked it when you kissed me back in the common’s room yesterday.”

Harry stays silent. Not because he wants to, but his mind has suddenly gone blank, the only sound remaining is the white noise that consists of _LouisLouisLouis_.

And still, Louis is so close, closer than he’s been before, and Harry could count each eyelash by the way they cast their shadows over his face. One of Louis’ hands is carding through the curls at Harry’s nape, which would make his knees buckle if he wasn’t already sitting on the ground. The other hand curls up around Harry’s thigh and Harry craves for air but he can’t seem to remember how to breathe. Prickling heat is crawling up from Louis’ hand and makes Harry’s stomach light and filled with butterflies.

His gaze links with Louis’ who is already looking at him expectantly and right. Maybe - probably, he should say something. They’re talking about kissing, for god’s sake. About how Louis liked kissing him and Harry liked it too, so he should probably let Louis know as much.

“I liked kissing you, too,” he finally croaks, his throat clogged up because of Louis’ closeness and the sweet smell of cologne and something else that has to be Louis and clouds up his mind.

At Harry’s words, Louis’ face lights up even though he has stopped smiling. But what Harry reads in his eyes has him short of breath, nevertheless.

“Do you think we could do it again?”

And Harry is totally going to hop onto that train as long as Louis invites him so nicely. He finally closes the short gap that was still left between their lips and meets Louis’ mouth. The kiss is sweet and delicate at first, much like the one the day before. But when Louis moves on to straddle Harry’s thighs, no one can blame him when a small moan escapes his lips. The kiss turns more heated and desperate with that, teeth and tongues clashing and yet moulding together in an unchoreographed dance. It’s a lot clumsy, and a lot perfect and when Louis breaks their kiss to catch his breath, it’s to rub their noses together.

“I want-” Louis starts and catches for air, just as much out of breath as Harry feels. “Can we- Shit, Harry there’s so much I want to do to you- _with_ you, but… Like, we can’t.”

“I know,” Harry ends his babbling, and curses their present circumstances. “I want you, too. But we can’t do anything here, really, what with the kids and like, all the others.” And damn, it’s only three days until they’re home again and these three days will surely be worth it. But if he has Louis already sat in his lap the prospect of having to wait another few days is putting a damp on his mood. Harry kisses Louis again, just for good measure. At least that’s still in the realms of acceptable behaviour. Unless- he breaks the kiss, just to make sure.

“Kissing’s alright though, right?” Harry wants to know, revelling in the fact that he can unashamedly stare at Louis for all he wants now.

At his question, Louis offers a breathy laugh only to answer: “Kissing is awesome.” And so he’s kissing Harry again, which he can’t say he minds. A sneaky hand finds its way down to his crotch, though, the passed exchange seemingly forgotten. Louis can only manage a few clumsy strokes before Harry gets a grip on his hand but the low pull in Harry’s stomach proves that Harry’s already so gone for this boy.

“Don’t tease, _Tommo_.” The use of the nickname is only to tip Louis off, to throw another pile of kindling to the fire that has been lit between them. “If you go any further, I doubt I’ll care about the others for long.”

“I’m not teasing, Haz,” Louis is quick to reply. “I’m promising you that there is more.” And while Harry cannot fully tell Louis’ expression in the surrounding darkness, he hears the smile in Louis’ voice before he sees it take over his face. And okay, yeah, he can work with that.

More. More, Harry can work with. But he’s also really happy with what he has now.

 

**Author's Note:**

> T, I hope you liked it. I love you a lot.  
> I'm sorry there's no glitter.
> 
> For everyone else that stumbles across this, come say hi on [tumblr.](http://letswastetimehere.tumblr.com)


End file.
